


Spend Some Time Forever

by TasteTheRainbow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TasteTheRainbow/pseuds/TasteTheRainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Colton accompanies Hoechlin on a vacation to Hawaii, he expects to get sunburned and laid, though preferably not in that order.  What he does not expect is to meet a barista he can’t get out of his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spend Some Time Forever

_Come to Hawaii_ , Hoechlin said. _It’ll be awesome, man. Long days on the beach, hard bodies in tiny swimsuits everywhere you look,_ he said. _Booze and sex and surf all week. It’ll be better than Vegas, man,_ he said. _We’ll get up at the ass crack of dawn and probably get eaten by a shark before we wake up enough to notice_ , he said.

Oh wait, he didn’t say that. Hoechlin didn’t say shit about getting up at 4:30 in the morning to catch early waves. He just bounced into Colton’s room like an overgrown puppy on Christmas morning. Shut up. It’s barely five. Colton can mix his metaphors if he feels like it.

Coffee. That’s all he wants; just a giant cup of coffee with tons of cream and a little sugar and maybe a shot or three of Red Bull. You can put Red Bull in coffee, right? Fuck, he’s so tired, he probably won’t taste anything anyway.

With Siri’s help, he finds a small coffee shop a few blocks away from the hotel and quickly realizes that Hoechlin is not the only person on this island crazy enough to be up at this hour. The place is packed with surfer types, all exuding the kind of enthusiastic energy that makes Colton want to punch them in the face. He opts for rubbing a hand over his face, hiding another yawn, and wondering why in the hell he’s even up. Hoechlin left before Colton was even out of the shower, so what’s he going to know if Colton just heads back to the room and climbs back into his bed?

To say that this place is laid back would be a huge understatement. Colton noticed it at the airport when he was the only one jittering and fidgeting anxiously while they waited for a cab. He noticed it in the lazy way the cab driver navigated traffic, easily chatting with Hoechlin the entire ride, as though they’d known each other forever or something. Even the receptionist at their tiny, hole-in-the-wall, oceanfront motel welcomed them in a noticeably easy and familiar fashion, as though she were inviting them into the greatest resort on any of the islands.

Look, it’s cool that everyone loves their private, tropical hideaway here. Colton can definitely see the appeal, but this hang-ten attitude is starting to stress him the hell out. Where’s the bustling and the hurrying? And why is he still standing in line, waiting for fucking coffee?

“Hey,” the barista interrupts his internal meltdown. “I don’t know you.”

“Uh, no,” Colton confirms, shaking his head and offering up a thin smile.

The barista’s face lights up, smile a thousand times more genuine than Colton’s, as he thrusts a hand across the counter. “Welcome! I’m Tyler.”

Colton wants coffee, not a new BFF. He spares Tyler one more glance and then returns his attention to the menu. “I need as much caffeine as you can give me.”

Tyler nods. “I have got just the thing for you, my friend.”

He’s gone for what seems like seconds to Colton, but it’s also possible that Colton fell asleep while he was waiting.

“See what you think of this.”

Colton pulls his wallet out of his pocket, waiting for a total, but Tyler just keeps watching and waiting. Fighting the roll of his sleepy eyes, Colton lifts the drink to his lips. It’s silky smooth, full bodied, and absolutely perfect. 

Maybe he could use a new friend after all. This kid could be good to have around. “Thanks, man. It’s awesome.”

Tyler points at him, his eyes crinkling in the corners when he laughs. “You have a beautiful smile, dude.”

How is Colton supposed to respond to that? Back home, if a guy comes into his bookstore and lays that line on him, Colton knows it’s flirtation. The rules might not be the same around here.

“Thanks,” he says, still gripping his wallet. “So, what do I owe you?”

Tyler shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, dude. First one’s always on the house.”

“Really?” That seems like terrible business, if you ask Colton.

“No, but you’re new around here and I’m trying to be friendly, so it’s on me.”

Later he’ll chalk his lame, “Thanks, man,” up to exhaustion. He’s usually a better conversationalist than that. For now, he’s just grateful to get out of this cramped little shop and out from under Tyler’s attentive gaze. 

-

“Hey, I invited your new boyfriend tonight.” Hoechlin says it like Colton should turn around and thank him or something.

In the two full days they have been here on the island, Colton has talked to or flirted with at least twenty-five people. At this point, Hoechlin could be referring to just about anyone. “Who?”

“You know who,” he says with a nod and a wink.

The look is just knowing enough that it freezes Colton’s hand in his hair as he stares into the mirror at Hoechlin’s reflection. “What did you do?”

“Dylan mentioned that Posey was talking about this hot guy he met at the shop the other morning. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re the prettiest visiting princess on the island.”

That is a leap and a half if Colton has ever heard one. Also: Dylan? Posey? “Who the hell are you even talking about?”

“Tyler Posey, the barista at the coffee shop you keep getting up early to visit.” 

Right, because Colton is setting his alarm just to get up and see an overly-friendly barista every morning. That’s exactly how this thing has been working. “Who’s Dylan?”

Hoechlin just pats his shoulder. “Now you’re just being purposely obtuse.” He disappears through the adjoining door, into his own cheap motel room with a shake of his head.

Colton considers his face in the mirror and then takes a step back. If he tries any harder, he’s going to look like he’s actually trying. This is a beach party and everyone will be drunk; there is no reason to put effort into looking good. If Colton wants to get laid, Colton will get laid. It won’t matter if his hair is perfect.

He grabs a hoodie and lets himself into Hoechlin’s room. Tyler’s on the phone, smiling like he’s talking to somebody special. As far as Colton knows, though, there’s no one that special in – oh. Oh! That Dylan.

“Oh, come on,” he says, smacking Hoechlin’s thigh. “You’re going to see him in ten minutes. Let’s go.”

Hoechlin flips him off, says a hurried goodbye, and pockets his phone. “You finally ready?”

Colton rolls his eyes and walks out the front door without a word. At least he’ll be drunk enough not to care about his friend’s stupid matchmaking scheme in less than an hour.

-

While Colton is sure that these kids are nice and all, showing up with Hoechlin to hang with Posey and Dylan feels a little too much like a set-up to him. Instead of sticking around, he finds a smoking-hot brick house of a guy who looks like he could easily hold Colton down and have his way with him, and sets about letting the guy ply him with beer while they trade witty innuendos by the campfire.

Of course, it would help if the guy was actually witty – or even remotely intelligent, really - but he looks good. That makes up for a wealth of shortcomings, doesn’t it? Colton thinks it should make up for a lot of stupidity.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t cover the guy’s staggering lack of personality. Colton’s mind wanders after only one beer and he finds an excuse to make a hasty exit. He looks for Hoechlin, but finds him hanging out with Dylan and the other Tyler over by the fire. His pride refuses to let his legs head that direction.

Of course, hanging back makes him look like the guy who just camps out around the beer all night, watching like a creeper as Posey strums a guitar, sings, laughs, and flirts with a couple of girls in teeny bikinis all at the same time. When something akin to jealousy wells in his chest, Colton turns away and looks for something else to occupy his time.

There is absolutely no reason to even think about feeling anything in regards to that kid. There’s no reason to give a shit who he talks to at all. Sure, he’s cute, but he’s not Colton’s type, no matter what Hoechlin might think. Though, to be fair, Hoechlin probably doesn’t care all that much as long as Dylan is here anyway.

He’s rounding the tower of beer cases when a sweet little strawberry blonde in a retro bikini steps into his path.

“Holland,” she says, thrusting a hand out to him. “You’re Hoechlin’s friend.”

Colton nods, though it seems she knows exactly who he is without confirmation. “Colton,” he says anyway.

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and levels him with an intense glare. “Why are you avoiding Posey?” 

“I’m sorry?”

“Tyler Posey? Cutie over there with way too much energy for a stoner? He came here to see you, ya know.”

“I don’t need to be set up. I do just fine on my own.”

Holland rolls and then narrows her eyes. “You ever think maybe it’s not just about you?”

“Huh?”

“Maybe the set-up isn’t for your benefit, Colton.” She says his name with the annoyance of someone who has known him forever, someone like his mother. “Maybe it’s Posey who’s too shy to make a move.”

All Colton can do is raise an eyebrow because, that kid? The one who acted like they were old pals the first time they so much as looked at each other? That kid who is twirling a lock of some girl’s dark hair around his finger right now, making her giggle and blush like crazy? That kid is not shy.

Holland clears her throat impatiently and says, “I am not saying you have to fall in love with him and move here to adopt babies together or anything, but it wouldn’t kill you to talk to him, okay?”

She turns on her heel so fast, she leaves a small sandstorm in her wake. Colton honestly can’t tell if he ever wants to talk to her again, but his legs are clearly intimidated as they choose this moment to unlock and venture over to the fire. 

There’s an empty spot on a log beside Dylan, so he wordlessly sits and holds his beer bottle loosely between his knees.

“Hey, look who decided to join us,” Hoechlin says, raising a toast to Colton before dropping his arm back down to Dylan’s thigh. “This is my best friend, Colton,” he says to Dylan.

Hoechlin has been vacationing here for a while now. He’s been talking about this awesome kid that he met on the beach for almost a year, and the last time he came home, he announced that he had finally taken the plunge and made a move on Dylan. Somehow, he’s nothing like the bummy surfers Hoechlin hangs out with back in California, which is to say he looks nothing like Colton imagined that he would.

He appears to be a regular ol’ college kid in board shorts and a striped button-down shirt. He’s wearing a Mets hat and he’s young, way younger than Hoechlin’s usual DILF dates. Just. This entire vacation is turning everything Colton thought he knew on its ear.

“Good to meet you, man,” Dylan says, reaching out one bottle-sweaty hand in greeting.

Colton nods back and gives his hand a quick shake. “I feel like I already know you,” he says with a teasing look of approval toward Hoechlin.

Hoechlin beams. Their tastes are so different – sometimes Colton wonders if they would even be friends if it weren’t for the store – but watching him smile so easily out here, so easily draping himself all over this kid at his side, triggers an interesting thought. This is the most genuine version of Hoechlin that Colton has ever seen; it’s not just happiness, but contentment.

He’s so busy focusing on Hoechlin’s newfound peace, on how completely at ease he is here and on how he’s probably going to move here someday and leave Colton up in San Francisco to figure out life for himself, that he barely notices the background music until it abruptly stops. He raises his gaze from the sand in time to see Posey stand and wipe sand from his shorts.

“I’m gonna put this away,” he announces to no one in particular.

Dylan watches his friend walk away and sighs. “I better go with him,” he says, giving Hoechlin’s knee a short squeeze.

It’s the pained resignation on Hoechlin’s face that prompts Colton to say, “Stay. You guys hang out. I’ll go with him.”

He doesn’t even know why a guy Tyler’s age would need supervision, but it’s obviously important to Dylan that he get it. It’s suddenly important to Colton that Hoechlin get to stay here in this blissfully serene place with Dylan, so volunteering is just common sense.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Hoechlin explains before Colton walks off. “When Posey smokes, he doesn’t pay attention to who might be patrolling the beach.”

Ah, the look-out. Colton can do this. It won’t be the first time.

-

He finds the van relatively easily – it’s hard to miss a bright orange VW van with a giant weed leaf painted on its side – and the back doors are wide open, catchy pop punk music playing inside.

Inside, Tyler is reclined against a bunch of pillows, rolling an impressive fatty against his knee. He looks up when Colton appears, one of those ridiculous smiles spreading slow across his face. 

“Hey, man,” Colton says, complete with shifting stance and a stupid little wave.

Tyler laughs. Tyler has a great laugh. “Colton, welcome. Come on in, man. Have a seat. Join me.”

He holds Colton’s eye when he raises the joint to his lips and licks the seam to seal it. That shouldn’t look so good.

Colton perches himself on the edge of the van but keeps his feet on the ground in case he needs to make a hasty retreat. “How many times you been busted out here, man?”

Tyler shrugs as he flicks the lighter to the end of the joint. “Just once. It was fine. People overreact, ya know?”

Something tells Colton that Dylan wouldn’t be so worried if it was as cool as Tyler thinks it is. He leans back against his side of the van and looks up into the crystal clear sky instead of voicing his opinion, though. It really is beautiful out here.

“So you own the bookstore with Hoechlin, huh?”

Colton is startled from his thoughts by the question. “Uh, yeah.”

“That’s cool, man. What kinda books do you sell?”

Biting back the first three sarcastic responses, Colton finally just tells himself to relax. What’s the point of offering to come over here if he’s just going to pout about it the entire time?

“We have a little bit of everything, I guess. I mean, a very little. It’s a small store. Um, mostly it’s Sci-Fi and fantasy, ‘cause that sells, but our selection is better in the LGBT stuff. Probably because that’s more interesting to Hoechlin and I, so that’s what we buy the most.”

Tyler’s voice is thick when he asks, “Like erotic stuff?”

Of course that’s what everyone thinks. If they’re gay-themed books, they must be full of sex, right? For some reason, though, it’s not as offensive a statement when it’s coming from Tyler. So Colton just smiles a little and says, “Some.”

Tyler’s eyes twinkle knowingly. He holds a joint out to Colton. “You want?”

He’s supposed to watch out for Tyler but he figures getting arrested on vacation will at least give him a story to tell once he gets back home.

He slides further into the van, pressing his side to Tyler’s and accepting the joint from him. He has to fight not to cough it back up – he’s not really that experienced in this stuff, but he’d rather not admit that right now – before he settles back in his new seat.

He lets the silence wash over him, embracing the stillness and the pleasant warmth that is coursing through his chest and lower. It probably says something that this is the first time he’s finally allowed himself to fully relax on an island as magnificent as this one. Maybe Hoechlin’s right. Maybe Colton is a little high strung.

“What do you do all day, Tyler?”

Tyler seems startled by the question but quickly shakes his head and chuckles again. “Sorry. Most people call me Posey. It’s weird to hear my name.”

“Sorry.”

Tyler takes another hit and shakes his head, leaning harder into Colton’s shoulder. “Nah, it’s fine. Probably gets confusing for you, with Hoechlin and all.”

Colton laughs. “I never call him Tyler. I don’t know why; I just never have.”

“Wait. You asked me a question, didn’t you?”

Colton just rolls his head to the side and back again. “I don’t remember.”

It’s weird how easy this is, sitting here with Tyler, letting him talk about whatever pops into his head. Sometimes it’s an observation: _The sky is so gigantic but you can totally block it out with one hand. That’s insane. Like, perspective is so insane, man. We’re so little but we can, like, do enormous things with one hand. We can just blot out the whole sky, ya know?_ Sometimes it’s a question: _You have siblings? Are they as hot as you? Is it possible for anyone to be as hot as you? How many boyfriends have you had? Or are you more of a one-and-done kind of guy?_ Sometimes he just interrupts himself to sing along with the radio.

Occasionally, he’ll answer questions about himself: _I work at the coffee shop because I’m done by noon, so I can fuck around on my skateboard or hang out at the beach or play some Halo during the day. Nah, no girlfriend. No boyfriend, either. I hook up sometimes, though. I like making out. Sometimes I think it’s better than sex, honestly._ He seems more comfortable asking the questions, though. It’s not evasive exactly. More like he just already knows about himself so the topic of conversation bores him or something.

Somehow, though Colton couldn’t say how, they end up stretched out along the floor of the van, Colton’s left ankle resting under Tyler’s right. It’s a pleasant weight that makes Colton tingle a little every time he moves.

When they’ve smoked the entire enormous joint between the two of them, Tyler tosses the miniscule butt into a small, metal bucket and blinks toward the ceiling. “Man, I’m so tired.”

Colton exhales, rolls his ankle just enough to feel Tyler against him, and inhales again. He holds the air as he held the smoke before and releases it through his nose. Maybe he should be saying something but he doesn’t know what so he just lies there, blinking at the sagging, green fabric on the ceiling.

“I made a new drink for you today.”

It’s so quiet, so almost shy, that Colton blinks and plays it over in his head. Nope, still doesn’t connect.

“You gonna make it for me?” he finally asks.

Tyler looks at him, surprised, like he thought Colton was going to laugh or something. “Yeah. If you want me to, I mean.”

“I want you to, Tyler.”

The air shifts, thickening and pulling tight between them, drawing their faces closer until Colton is sure he can feel Tyler’s breath as though it’s a tangible thing. “Is breath tangible?” he asks.

Tyler blinks at him owlishly. “Huh?”

As soon as he pulls back far enough to focus on Colton’s face, Colton misses the immediate closeness. It’s enough to jar Colton into forgetting the question. It doesn’t matter anymore.

Tyler’s lips look really soft and full. There is stubble on his jaw, like he’s trying to grow a beard but his face hasn’t quite gotten fully on board just yet. It’s hinting at the start of something and it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing about Tyler. It’s so fucking fascinating that Colton feels his hand moving to touch without inhibition. Tyler’s dark eyes drift shut as Colton’s knuckles brush his jaw. The hair prickles on the ends but it’s soft closer to his face.

Now, Colton has been flirtatious before – who doesn’t like a little foreplay – but this is intimate in a way that he doesn’t really allow with the guys he meets back home.

Tyler just lies there, his hand brushing over Colton’s thigh in a disjointed but comfortable rhythm. His hand is so warm, so smooth against the hair on Colton’s leg, teasing the hem of his shorts. It feels amazing.

They fall into a comfortable silence and it’s not until Colton hears Tyler’s measured breath that he realizes the guy’s actually fallen asleep. He could easily slip out of the van and head back to the party. He could find a new friend for the night and have some naked fun. That’s what this week is about, isn’t it?

So why would he rather let his eyes drift shut, just sleep here in the back of his weed-smelling van with this guy who may or may not have a legitimate crush on him? Colton figures it’s best not to question some things too thoroughly.

-

When Colton wakes with a start, he finds Tyler staring at him with amused, heavily-lidded eyes. His heart is hammering against his ribs and something feels off.

It takes a second to remember that he fell asleep in the back of Tyler’s van on the beach. He’s not sure whether he’s upset or grateful that Hoechlin didn’t bother waking him.

What exactly is he supposed to say here? _Thanks for letting me crash in the back of your van all night but I really need to piss and take a shower so could you drive this bedroom home, please?_ That’s a mouthful.

Fortunately, Tyler laughs and pulls himself into a seated position at Colton’s side. He runs his fingers through hair flying in nineteen directions and stares at his bare foot when he says, “Would it be more or less awkward if we had actually fucked last night?”

Colton answers with a barked laugh of surprise. He scrubs a hand over his face and notices that Tyler is still watching him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Tyler says, averting his gaze and then looking back up like an embarrassed kid. “You always do that in line, with your hand and your face.”

Colton looks at the palm of his hand and smiles sheepishly. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” Reaching over his shoulder, Tyler produces a set of keys and jingles them in Colton’s eyeline. “Come on. Coffee awaits.”

He really should say that he needs to get home, back to the motel before Hoechlin starts to worry about him, but even as he thinks that, Colton knows that Hoechlin’s not waiting for him. If he even came back to the hotel last night, he certainly didn’t come back alone and absolutely is not thinking about Colton.

And anyway, coffee. Special coffee, made just for him. How’s he going to turn that down? And for what? A shower and a little more sleep?

-

In the six years that he’s known Hoechlin, Colton has never seen him like this. The guy is practically attached to this Dylan kid. When they’re not having unabashed, wall-slamming sex in the room adjoining Colton’s – apparently completely unconcerned about whether or not Colton is in said room at all – they’re hanging all over each other in full view of everyone. Colton has no problem with PDA. Hell, everyone should feel so free with the person they’re crazy about, but when that someone is an otherwise reserved guy who’d rather send a guy an email than ever express an emotion in person, it’s kind of fucking weird.

No, wait. That’s Colton. Colton is the reserved one. Hoechlin is the one who has stuffy, boring dinners with hedge fund managers fifteen to twenty years his senior. He’s not the guy who shares one chair with a twenty-one year-old in the back of a crab shack in some middle-of-nowhere island.

“Seriously? I think we’ve passed the point of no return,” he says to Tyler in a stage whisper while Hoechlin lets Dylan feed him coconut shrimp with his fingers.

Tyler just shakes his head and looks down at his plate with an innocent sort of smile. “I think it’s kind of sweet,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little, as though he’s worried Colton is going to mock him for it.

To be fair, Colton is considering it. That is, until Crystal presses a piece of popcorn chicken to Tyler’s lips and laughs coyly when he snatches it from her fingers. Colton has been assured that there is nothing more than close friendship between Crystal and Tyler, but that’s not so comforting when Colton is trying to chase this phantom, rampant jealousy away. Close friendship can so easily turn into something more.

Crystal is beautiful and girlie and flirtatious and artsy. She’s everything that Tyler is and nothing that Colton even cares to be. If that’s what Tyler is drawn to, then he is absolutely just playing around when he flirts with Colton. It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t mean anything. They’re leaving in two days. It doesn’t mean anything.

Lost in a haze of some emotion that has no place in this kind of easy, chilled atmosphere, Colton is not exactly expecting the French fry that pops in front of his mouth. He jumps a little and turns in confusion toward Holland.

She just raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “Try it,” she says, narrowing her focus to Colton’s mouth. “You might like it.”

He’s almost sure that they are no longer talking about the food, but he has no idea what he’s supposed to say in response, so he takes the proffered fry without question, carefully avoiding Holland’s fingers in the process. Hoechlin may use feeding time as a chance to show his sucking prowess to the world at large, but Colton’s not interested in following suit.

“See?” Holland says with a satisfied smirk. “It’s good.”

His smile is fake, but he can’t hold it. As frustrated as he tries to be with Holland, she’s too amusing to really raise his hackles too much. With a roll of his eyes, he takes another fry and chews it with a genuine grin. “What do you know? It _is_ good.”

She crinkles her nose and rests one hand on the back of Colton’s chair, leaning across him to butt into Tyler’s conversation. Her hair smells really good but, at the moment, it’s in Colton’s mouth, so he reaches out to brush it away, catching Hoechlin’s exasperated, wide-eyed expression across the table. Judging by the way he narrows his gaze into a warning glare when Colton moves his hand down the center of Holland’s back, it has something to do with the touching, but what? It’s not a thing; he just doesn’t have anywhere else to put his hand right now.

It absolutely has nothing to do with trying to make Tyler feel the same pang every time Tyler wraps an arm around Crystal.

-

They leave the restaurant together, tripping over each other and laughing as they spill onto the street in one giant, nebulous blob. The night is as young as they feel, infinite and invincible, the possibilities endless. It’s the most intoxicating feeling, one Colton knows he won’t be able to hang on to in a couple of days, when they head back to the mainland, back to real life.

“Colton!”

Blinking at his name, Colton looks up to find the rest of the group already heading in the other direction. Hoechlin is looking at him expectantly while Dylan talks with Tyler and Holland. Crystal is hanging onto the hand Tyler has swung around her shoulder. He blinks back to Hoechlin and then jabs a thumb over his own shoulder.

“You guys go on. I’m gonna grab somethin’ from my room and I’ll meet you there.”

Granted, he doesn’t really need anything but he suddenly feels like he needs a few minutes to himself. A quick breath, maybe a drink from the mini-fridge, and a deep breath might help him feel a little more centered. He’s hoping, anyway.

He’s taken about three steps when he hears Tyler yelp and then call out, “Hey, Colton, wait up.” When Colton turns, he says, “I’ll walk with you.” He catches up and suddenly looks uncertain. “Did you wanna be alone for a little while? ‘Cause I can run back the other way.”

Colton shakes his head before he even thinks about what he’s doing. “It’s fine,” he says with a shrug.

“You sure, man? I don’t wanna intrude on your quiet time. I mean, screw Holland’s countdown clock.”

“Holland’s what?”

As though realizing he’s said too much, Tyler flushes, rubbing a hand over his neck as he accidentally bumps against Colton’s shoulder. “She keeps reminding me how many days are left until you guys leave.”

Colton rounds the corner, door to his room visible from the street. “Why does that matter?”

His heart hammers against his ribs with the anticipation of this answer because, try as he might to ignore it or fight it or pretend that it doesn’t mean anything, he needs to know that he’s not alone in this thing he’s been avoiding.

They cross the parking lot in silence, Tyler opening his mouth and shutting it again several times before they reach the motel door. Finally, he asks, “Are you coming back?”

Unlocking the door, Colton shrugs. “When?” 

“I don’t know. Ever?”

He shoulders the door open and flips the light on before he turns to see Tyler hovering there, like this answer will decide whether he comes into the room or not; he looks like it will decide everything forever. 

Colton licks his lips as he lets his eyes drift around the room. He would like to be able to say _of course, just as soon as I can_ but he’s not in the same position as Hoechlin. He doesn’t have an on again/off again benefactor who pays for quarterly trips to the island, sometimes for more than that if Hoechlin desperately needs to catch a wave. Colton’s pretty sure the guy is unaware of the other activities occupying Hoechlin’s time down here, but it’s not his relationship so he tries to steer clear of the particulars.

The point is that he owns a small bookstore that barely pays his bills. He used Christmas and birthday money and sold a collection of old baseball cards on Craigslist to be able to afford this one trip. He may never be able to return. As much as he wishes he could lie to Tyler’s face, tell him that he’ll be back soon and they can pick up right where they leave off here, he can’t look into those big, brown eyes and lie. 

“I don’t know.”

Tyler nods, as though that was the answer he expected. “So this is probably my last chance then,” he say, heaving a deep breath as he steps into the motel room and shuts the door a little harder than is strictly necessary.

“Your last chance for what?”

The look he gets in response is pure _Shut up, idiot._ Tyler steps right into Colton’s personal space and looks at him with these wide, hopeful eyes. “Is this okay?.”

This, the electricity between them? This, the tension that’s been aching for resolution for days? This, the overwhelming power of the attraction between them? Yeah. ”It’s more than okay.”

At the beginning of the week, Holland told Colton that Tyler was kind of shy and Colton didn’t believe it. Over the last few days, he’s seen it creeping in around the edges. He’s got all of the confidence he needs to stand in the middle of the crowd and make a total ass of himself without so much as a blush, but when things get quiet and they’re alone, he barely makes eye contact and he flushes so pretty and pink from his neck to the tips of his ears. 

Now, though. Now that he has the permission, he grabs the back of Colton’s head and pulls him in hard. There’s no hesitation, just a confident strength that comes from knowing that the person he’s kissing is just as happy to be there as he is. He sucks Colton’s tongue into his mouth with a slow sensuality that nearly undoes Colton where he stands. 

Colton grabs Tyler’s shoulders, digging his fingers into the soft cotton of Tyler’s shirt as Tyler keeps a firm hold on Colton’s neck. They kiss until Colton’s lips start to feel numb, until he remembers what Tyler told him in the van a few days ago: _I like making out. Sometimes I think it’s better than sex, honestly._ If he’d mentioned then that he was so damn good at it, Colton might have agreed with him. Fuck.

They barely move, mostly because Colton can’t get his brain to think beyond, _more more yes more_ while Tyler is pressed against him, biting at his lips and chasing the sting with his tongue. He may whimper a time or two, his heart thundering in his chest as Tyler lifts the hem of Colton’s shirt and rubs his fingers across the slightly-ticklish skin there.

His limbs feel detached from his body when Tyler forces them up over his head, tugging Colton’s shirt off and tossing it onto the floor. He grabs Colton’s face with one hand and kisses him deeper, as though he’s trying to climb inside Colton’s mouth, while his other hand hooks into the waistband of Colton’s shorts and pulls him back toward the bed. 

Colton follows like an eager puppy, chasing Tyler’s mouth when he pulls away to rid himself of his own shirt. Tyler chuckles, presses another quick kiss to Colton’s mouth, and turns to push Colton onto the bed first. 

Bouncing onto the cheap mattress jars Colton just enough to get his brain back into the game. He smiles when Tyler crawls up between Colton’s spread thighs, reaching out for him on instinct. “Come here,” he says.

But Tyler just shakes his head, bending low to press his open mouth against Colton’s stomach. “We’ll get there,” he says, his voice a low vibration against Colton’s skin.

We’ll get there. Like they have all the time in the world. Like this isn’t going to end in less than forty-eight hours. Like Tyler is pretending that time doesn’t exist outside this room or something. Actually, Colton thinks, that’s not a bad idea. 

He lets his arms fall to his sides against the sheets, reveling in the feeling of Tyler’s mouth against his chest, the slide of his tongue over Colton’s nipples, and he groans in spite of himself. If he thinks about tomorrow or the day after that, he’s going to miss out on this incredible moment. Tyler sucks at his throat, trails quick kisses across his jaw, and licks around the rim of Colton’s ear, sending shivers Colton won’t admit to down his spine.

Tyler’s knee presses tight between Colton’s legs, the pressure against his dick causing Colton to roll his hips for more friction. He could rub himself off right here, just lazily making out while he ruts against Tyler’s leg until he comes in his pants. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t even be embarrassed by it.

Threading his fingers through Colton’s hair, Tyler goes back to biting and licking at Colton’s collarbone and throat, drawing these desperate, needy little gasps from Colton that would be embarrassing if he wasn’t miles from caring already. Colton is used to bigger guys, muscle-bound gym rats who hold him down and make him beg. By all rights, Tyler shouldn’t do it for him at all, but he’s got Colton more twisted up than anyone in recent memory. It’s awesome.

Finally, Tyler kisses back down Colton’s chest, laving a wet stripe down his sternum and stopping to dip the tip of his tongue into Colton’s navel. Colton’s muscles jump and he laughs, loud and sharp in the silence of the room.

Resting his chin on Colton’s stomach, Tyler beams an electric smile his way. “Ticklish?”

“Shut up,” Colton manages, lifting one hand and letting it fall onto Tyler’s shoulder.

Tyler laughs in response, backing off of the bed to unbutton Colton’s shorts and pull them off with his underwear. Then he just stands there, staring at Colton’s dick like he’s trying to figure out what happens next. 

Colton has a few suggestions, but before he can voice them, Tyler shimmies out of his own pants and climbs back onto the bed. He grabs Colton’s dick in a fist and shoots Colton one more smirk before he sucks the head into his mouth. Fuck, he’s good at this, too. He’s so good that Colton can feel his back arching before he realizes that he’s moving and moaning and fisting the sheets at his sides with the sensation of it.

“Stop,” he hears himself saying, instant guilt shooting down his spine when Tyler does it immediately and looks up at Colton with wide eyes. “No, you’re awesome. I just wanna.” He stops himself, feeling the heat rise in his chest. They’re having a good time; Tyler’s not going to judge him for this. “I want yours.”

 _I want yours_? That’s Colton’s genius line? Jesus, he should get up and kick his own ass. Though, to be fair, Tyler’s making him kind of crazy, so he can’t really be held responsible for everything he says. Yeah, that’s it. That’s the excuse he’s goin’ with.

As it turns out, though, he doesn’t need an excuse. Tyler rises up on his knees and straddles Colton’s chest, one hand wrapped around his own dick as he moves slowly. “You want this?” he teases, stopping to rub the head against Colton’s lower lip. “Is that what you want?”

Colton just tilts his head, eyes rolling back as he reaches out to grip Tyler’s hips. “Yes,” he finally answers, opening his mouth to let Tyler decide how much of it he gets and when. He may not be as gigantic as some of the other guys Colton fucks, but he’s proving to have no problem taking the control Colton is offering.

He feeds his dick into Colton’s mouth torturously slow, the weight of it pressing against Colton’s tongue. Hot and soft and fucking perfect, Colton closes his eyes and finds a rhythm. He once told Hoechlin that there’s not much he loves more in the bedroom than sucking cock. Hoechlin looked skeptical, at best, but it’s true. Colton loves a dick in his mouth just as much, if not more, than guys love having their dicks in his mouth.

“Here, wait,” Tyler says, pulling back until his dick pops free of Colton’s mouth, smacking his chin and leaving a wet trail behind. Tyler gasps as he sits at Colton’s side, reaching forward to wipe the spit away. “You’re killin’ me here,” he says, sucking his thumb into his mouth as Colton rolls onto his stomach at Tyler’s side.

As he takes Tyler’s dick back into his mouth, Colton tucks his knees under his body and angles his hips up so he can grab his own cock. He matches the rhythm of his hand to the one his lips have found around Tyler, humming a soft moan with every movement.

Tyler’s fingers tangle in Colton’s hair, his voice scratchy and low when he says, “Feels so fuckin’ good, man. You’re so fuckin’ good.” He scratches blunt nails along the back of Colton’s neck as he continues a constant litany of praise until he tugs on Colton’s hair and abruptly asks, “You have lube in here?”

Colton pulls back with a ragged breath and nods toward his open suitcase on the floor. He probably should have unpacked at the beginning of the week, but it occurs to him that it probably doesn’t fucking matter right now so he should stop thinking about such trivial things.

While Tyler grabs the lube, Colton rises onto his knees and leans forward, arms braced against the mattress. He’s well-aware that he’s presenting his ass when Tyler turns back around but, from the way Tyler mutters _Holy fucking shit_ under his breath when he turns to see Colton there on all fours, Colton can’t help being a little proud of the slutty picture he makes right now.

Tyler’s fingers are slick with the lube when he rubs them over Colton’s hole, groaning when one slips inside easily. “Cannot fuckin’ wait to get my dick in this ass,” he says on a nearly-reverent breath, working another finger in and out of Colton’s ass carefully.

“Fuck, Tyler,” Colton moans, pushing back against Tyler’s fingers because, damn, he can’t wait, either. His dick is heavy and throbbing between his legs, leaking precome and begging for Colton to touch it, but Colton isn’t about to risk falling on his face before Tyler is inside him. 

The sound he makes when he hears the condom package opening would be hilarious coming from anyone else, and the ones that escape his throat when Tyler’s dick presses into his hole are high-pitched, wanton and pleading and so fucking desperate. He couldn’t deny how much he loves this if he tried right now, but he’s not about to try. He imagined getting fucked in all sorts of positions on this vacation, but this is so much better than any of the fantasies. 

Tyler grips Colton’s hip in one hand, moving slowly at first, with only whispered grunts until Colton begins to move with him. “That’s it,” he says, thrusting harder, deeper. “Yeah, Colton. That’s it, right there.”

At this point, Colton’s brain checks out on all logical thought. His body is on fully awake, like he can feel Tyler in every nerve ending with every movement. The room is filled with the sounds of slapping skin and filthy words, but Colton isn’t processing them at the moment. Anything more than _fuck yes that more_ isn’t registering.

Somehow Colton ends up on his back, but he honestly couldn’t say how it happened. All he knows for sure is that looking into Tyler’s face, seeing his smile stretched wide across his face as he fucks into Colton again and again and again, is way better than staring at the fucking motel sheets. 

He reaches for his own cock and catches his bottom lip between his teeth when Tyler tracks the movement with a pleased expression.

“Yeah, do it,” Tyler says, as though Colton was waiting for permission. “Fuck, Colton, that’s so fucking hot, man.” 

Colton doesn’t consider himself much of an exhibitionist, but knowing that Tyler is watching makes him flush hot all over. It nearly takes him by surprise when he feels it build, on the edge of orgasm after just a few, furious strokes. “Oh, fuck,” he says through clenched teeth, his eyes squeezed shut against the impending rush.

Tyler pulls out suddenly, peeling the condom off and jerking his own dick in time with Colton’s. Colton can’t say who comes first, but he knows that his stomach is soaked and sticky by the time he opens his eyes. Tyler is looking at the mess they’ve made, mesmerized as he trails his dick along Colton’s hip.

When their eyes meet, Tyler’s grin is bright and proud. He leans forward and catches Colton in a sweet, languid kiss, his tongue rolling into Colton’s mouth and back out again before Colton can even think about kissing back.

“Don’t move, okay?” Tyler says, squeezing Colton’s knee before he turns for the bathroom.

As if he could move, Colton thinks, his limbs liquid and useless at the moment. Earlier tonight, he was jealous of Crystal. He thought for sure that he was in for another long night of watching the pair of them flirting around the bonfire or something. Now he’s so worn out that his chest aches when he laughs at his previous foolishness.

Tyler returns with a wet washrag, sinking to Colton’s side and gingerly wiping his stomach clean. He’s so gentle, so much softer than he was just a few minutes ago. There’s maybe something a little awesome about knowing Tyler is the kind of guy who can push Colton onto the bed and fuck him like a fucking god and then turn around and tenderly clean him up after they’re done. That kind of makes him as close to perfect as Colton can possibly imagine.

Finally, Tyler tosses the rag onto the bedside table and stretches out at Colton’s side, reaching for his hand and weaving their fingers together. “So I was thinking,” he says.

“About,” Colton prompts when it doesn’t seem like Tyler is planning on saying any more.

“About maybe coming to the mainland in a few months.”

Colton’s heart kicks up in his chest, but he reminds himself that he’s thought about returning to the island a lot, too. That doesn’t mean it’s going to happen any time soon.

“Yeah?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Tyler nods, shoulders propped against the headboard as he rolls his head toward Colton. “I have a brother in college there. I could always get my parents to foot the bill to go visit him.”

“Where’s he goin’ to school?”

“Stanford.” 

“That’s, like, a half an hour from me,” Colton says.

Tyler just smiles wider, though. “I know.” Licking his lips as he looks away, he adds, “I mean, I’d stay with him and everything, but if you wanted to get together, maybe hang out or something-,”

Colton cuts him off with a kiss that surprises even himself. 

They’re both laughing when they pull apart. Colton just shakes his head and says, “Of course I wanna get together. We’ll figure it out, but fuck yes. You should definitely visit your brother whenever you want.”

“I will,” Tyler says, and it almost sounds like a promise. 

He knows himself well enough to know that he can’t think about any future visits too much or he’s going to forget that he still has a couple of days here on the island. That guy, the one who lives on the mainland and happened to come here on a vacation with a friend, worries about details entirely too much. This guy, the one who just fucked a stoner barista and plans on doing it several more times before he leaves in a couple of days, is perfectly happy to live in the moment


End file.
